


there's lots that I could say

by freedawn, moonymindpalace



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedawn/pseuds/freedawn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonymindpalace/pseuds/moonymindpalace
Summary: They used to play together at that underground pub just outside the campus, it was fun, they'd get really drunk and sometimes Brian would flirt with him for the entire gig, and then they’d fuck hard at the first spot they could possibly find as soon as the last song was over. Sometimes Brian would flirt with him just the same thendisappear with someone from the crowd afterward, and Jae knew that he would be fucking them just as hard as he fucked Jae, and that was okay, really, because those were the days Jae'd go home with some stranger too.So it was fun, really, but not enough, because at some point Jae ended up realizing that his heart would beat the same rhythm as the bass notes when Brian was playing, and that he didn’t want to go home with a stranger anymore, he just wanted Brian.





	there's lots that I could say

**Author's Note:**

> **[moonymindpalace's note]**  
>  The plot and the draft were both **freedawn's** from back in 2018, but I guess she totally forgot about it and I thought it would be a good birthday gift to finally edit, revise and publish it.  
> Hope it's enjoyable to everyone, most of all to my precious friend, supporter and soulmate Isis who's growing wiser and stronger every year.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore” is exactly what Jae wants to say when he says it, but what he actually means by it doesn’t carry, of course. “It’s just not the same”, he finishes, swallowing a lump in his throat, because for a while it had been the same, up until he started feeling like it wasn’t enough. Jae has always liked the way words can hold multiple meanings if you know how to play them, but these words goe down bitter on the back of his throat. What he and Brian have is huge in the way it hurts and small in the way it feels like it doesn’t even exist, sometimes.

His head is on Brian’s chest, intertwined limbs and nothing between them and all Brian does is nod, so Jae doesn’t say anything further because that’s Brian, the easiest person he’s ever met, even if he wants to believe he heard Brian’s heart pick up under his head a second ago.

He knew it since the very first day, when Amber showed up to his dorm with cigarettes, some weed, and that freshman who had just arrived from Canada. When Jae went for his mouth as soon as Amber stepped out for some non-existent appointment because she knew when he was hungry for someone — and fuck, he was so hungry for Brian — that that guy was easy in a very, very pleasant way and that he knew how to make things simple, just as Jae liked them.

Brian isn’t being easy now, even though he’s just agreed with Jae’s “not anymore”, because he’s still in the room, sitting by the windowsill, fingering random notes on Jae’s guitar that don’t make any real sense but still sound good, and it’s specially not easy because he’s still beautiful. The incoming breeze makes the curtains and Brian’s hair wave sweetly, and his face is dimly lit by the street light, his features outlined in a silver hue, and in that half-light, he’s breathtakingly beautiful. He’s as pretty as Jae thought he was that first day, when their lips were cracked and they were too cotton-mouthed to make the kiss good, clothes sticky with sweat, and the air in the room was so fucking heavy from the smoke it was hard to breathe, let alone make out, but they managed it anyway.

“Cali is really fucking hot,” Brian had said with his lips on Jae’s, the first kiss becoming a second and third.

“You get used to it,” Jae answered, lips running down the skin of his neck.

 _California isn’t that hot_ , Jae thinks, now, _close that fucking window and come here, come lay with me and forget everything I said. Forget we’re nothing and be mine._

He wants to scream. Instead, he scrolls through his Twitter.

Convenience brought them together and defined them. He had liked Brian because he didn’t make it complicated, he didn’t ask for a thing, he’s made of freedom the same way Jae is. He had liked how he could do pretty much anything with anyone and Brian would never be bothered, especially because he’d be doing the same.

What took Jae too long to realize was that it doesn’t matter who he spends the night with, who he gets on his knees for, cause if they aren’t Brian, they’re never enough. He’d just end up back to Brian, would call him in the middle of the night at the most absurd hours, text him as soon as some stranger stepped out of his room, because everything was fleeting but Brian became an increasingly fixed constant. He would ask him to come over, saying he needed to feel good for real, hiding not so unconsciously that he craved the way only Brian could make him feel, and Brian wouldn’t always show up, but he would if he could. They were freedom, they were casual and doing _just_ what they wanted to do.

They used to play together at that underground pub just outside the campus, decent crowd, suspicious drinks and you could probably get chlamydia just from touching the bathroom’s doorknob, but it paid them a surprisingly nice amount for their gigs. Jae was already in the band when he asked Brian to join them because their former bassist was an ass and Brian was good at, well, pretty much everything. 

Brian always seemed happier, more like himself, on stage, not a care in the world and free, so, so free. Always singing with that smile plastered on his face, eyes closed and so sincere, always so fucking unfairly beautiful, and that wasn’t that big of a deal that Jae couldn’t take his eyes off him the whole time because, shit, who could?

It was fun and they used to get really drunk and sometimes Brian would flirt with him for the entire gig, and then they’d fuck hard at the first spot they could possibly find as soon as the last song was over. Sometimes Brian would flirt with him just the same then disappear with someone from the crowd afterward, and Jae knew that he would be fucking them just as hard as he fucked Jae, and that was okay, really, because those were the days he’d go home with some stranger too. Freedom, that’s what it was — and toxic, too, if he had ever cared to think about it, but he never did.

So it was fun, really, but not enough, because at some point Jae ended up realizing that when Brian was playing his heart would beat the same rhythm as the bass notes and that he didn’t want to go home with a stranger anymore, he just wanted Brian, and that was really, really horrible thing to realize.

And then, when their drummer graduates and they have to stop playing — because they couldn’t find anyone for the next four months — Jae knows he shouldn’t  be as relieved as he is, but at least he isn’t seeing Brian go home with anyone but him, even though he’s pretty sure that’s still happening, because that’s the whole point in all that shit. Brian’s free, as free as he always was, even if Jae’s not anymore.

“So... do I leave now?” Brian asks from his spot by the window — touching the sky, still haphazardly fingering Jae’s guitar, and his voice carries some unknown emotion that makes the words sound like music, like a sad song, Jae thinks, about a break up, even though there’s nothing to be broken besides Jae, and he already was, a long time ago, when he started to ache for more.

“Stay. Just tonight. You’re already here anyway.” Jae’s answer — he knows it’s a plea but tries hard not to let it show — sounds cold and a little cruel on the cramped room. Cruel specially to himself.

Brian sets the guitar against the wall and comes back, sinks into his body hard and deep, marks his skin like he means it, a faint line of pain before the pleasure, almost too much for Jae to handle, too perfect for him to ever want to stop and make it look like he won’t miss it. Jae will, of course, but Brian’s free and Jae doesn’t know what he is anymore.

Brian doesn’t sleep over that night, because this is the last time, and that’s how last times work. No morning sex, no odd familiarity that sometimes made Jae forget the boundaries of casual, of “friends with benefits”, when Brian would bring him a mug of coffee while he was still too much of a dead body sprawled all over his bed, or back to those days when they’d wake up just to share pancakes — obviously made by Brian — on the same plate, tangled legs under the blankets and some awful movie Brian thought artsy playing on his laptop, always long forgotten but still there. This is the last time, sex with feelings that will never turn to words, dubious signs, “want me to walk you to the door?”, no farewell kisses, just the “no need, I can find my way” on a joking tone not funny at all but that keeps things for getting more awkward.

The bedsheets smell like Brian, his mouth tastes like Brian, the air still carries Brian’s presence, and California never seemed so cold, but Jae knows he at least isn’t being selfish now, he isn’t hoping Brian will give up his freedom for him, no more craving for something he could never have.

When the marks of the last time are gone — when days turn to weeks and become months — and the traces Brian left in his apartment have already faded with everything else, the hurt Jae feels started to dissolve as well.

At first he misses Brian all the time, day to night to day to night again and again in an endless loop, and there are times he thinks he will suffocate on unspoken words, but he keeps the routine of pretending it doesn’t hurt like a bitch — even if pretending doesn’t will away the pain — until the feeling gets spent on the edges, like pages of a book Jae’d read over and over again, and eventually comes the time Jae only misses him when his mind is full of what ifs and maybes and of everything he could’ve said.  He doesn’t regret the past, but he misses the future that never came to be.

*

“So, you’re saying you forgot him,” Mark states rather than ask, voice smoky and eyeing him from his spot on Jae’s bed, joint between his fingers.

“I’m saying, yeah, that,” he answers, not quite confirming, not quite denying, eyes glued to the same game he’s been playing the whole month.

Mark isn’t buying it, and Jae knows it from the way he half coughs half laughs, but what else could he say? Jae’s a strong adept to the whole “fake it ‘til you make it” so he just shrugs Mark’s disbelief away and turns the console off. He takes the Cheetos bowl away from Mark's lap and puts his head there instead, closing his eyes and waiting to feel Mark’s hand on his hair.

“I trained you well,” he says when fingers start playing with a strand of his fringe.

“You suck. Now explain to me again why’d you break up with someone you actually like.”

“You can’t break up if you’re not dating, y’know?” Jae feels the need to point out, “Just interrupted a shitty situation before it got even... shittiest. Shittier? You know what I mean.”

Mark’s grin is so harsh Jae has to look away.

“Let’s get this straight,” Mark says, on his best heartless law student voice, “you were fucking a guy for more than a year — consistently, though you weren’t dating — and you were actually liking him, and then you kicked his ass out of this room ‘cause you were… actually liking him? Jae, that’s an asshole move.”

“No,” Jae opens his eyes again, squirming on his spot. “Shit, Mark, no! I was fucking a guy who spent the whole year fucking me and half the campus too, and then — I know you got my emphasis here, Mark, just _then_ — I kicked his ass out because I was liking h—”

Before he’s even done Mark’s already letting go of his hair and clutching his chin with terrifying strength, eyes deadly serious, and Jae feels like he’ll be punched anytime now.

“Oh, really? Guess what Jae? He was fucking half of the campus because _you_ were fucking the other half, or, I dunno, maybe the same half, you fucking dumbass, you were even fucking _me_ , for god’s fuckin’ sake! And now you’re here crying about a guy who fucks around when you do nothing different,” he releases his grip on Jae's face, patting his cheek weakly before stroking his hair again, face plain and smile sarcastic with that very Mark brand of “joke’s on you”.

“Bitch, you do know how to overuse the word fuck,” Jae was amazed, honestly, “and also that’s exactly what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about, you asshole, I’d happily fuck this little grin off your pretty face back then, but now I’m too in damn fuckin’ _love_ to even _do_ that”. He straightens on the bed to grab the joint from the nightstand and light it, feeling too sober. “That bastard ruined all of my pleasures and I’m damned, Markie, the game’s over for me, that’s it, I’m tamed” he sighs, smoke steaming up from his mouth to nostrils — he hears Mark’s “siiike” on the background but chooses to ignore it. “But you’re right, alright. Joke’s on me”.

“Yeah, it is, but listen,” Mark says, taking the joint away from Jae before he could even enjoy it properly and giving it the longest drag Jae’s ever seen someone take, “I’m just telling it once, and just because I’m your best friend forever: there’s a reason Brian Kang kicks everybody’s asses out of his life but never yours, and believe me, ‘s not because yours is made out of gold. You, mister, betta go get that boy back already.”

*

A party, obviously, was not the setting Jae would choose, if he’d ever dare to “go get that boy back” like Mark said that day, a lifetime or so ago. Not that he hasn’t thought about it — because he did, pretty much every day for months — he just never got to build up the courage he needed to. Turns out he’s figured that hooking up with a guy he feels nothing for except arousal, stoned as fuck and back to the safety of his apartment, is a whole lot simpler than walk up to a guy he’s pretty much sure he is completely fallen for and say something.

So, he wasn’t planning this, any of this. He wasn’t even expecting to see Brian again so soon — soon being any time before he overcame his infatuation — and that’s why Jae feels so sick when they meet by accident at Dowoon’s party. He isn’t by any means prepared and Brian’s leather jacket and ripped black jeans are too much for him to handle, his smile and eyes being everything Jae’s missed the most. Nothing seems to have changed, though, Brian’s still so beautiful it physically hurts Jae.

“You’re staring,” Brian says, killer smile but unsure eyes — Jae would know, he knows all of Brian’s tells. He feels sick but at least Brian’s out of his comfort zone too.

“I know,” he says back, drink not quite enough to make him feel light but enough to keep him from stuttering.

“Why’d you stare?” Brian sips from his own glass, both of them too casual for it to be honest. The music is too loud, and Jae has to keep his eyes on Brian’s lips to know what he’s saying, wondering if that was better or worse than getting closer and let Brian’s mouth skim his ears, his body.

“You’re hot” he answers, truth sliding from his tongue unintended but incomplete.

_I missed you. I’ve been missing you for too long not to stare._

Brian’s caught off guard, Jae knows from the way his lips curl down a little bit at the corners, just slightly, before his usual smile came back, even wider, and although he wants to feel proud that he’s still able to do that to Brian he feels wrong instead, like he crossed an unspoken line between them.

“Look who’s talking,” Brian says, and it’s harder to hear it this time, the music getting louder, Brian’s voice like a whisper through all the noise, but Jae knows it’s flirty because he’s heard it many times before. “Thought you didn’t like that anymore, though.”

Jae laughs, finishes his drink, tries to play it cool. Brian’s still the same, he thinks, while Brian pours half of his own drink into Jae’s glass. Sexy, flirty, _dangerous_. He’s getting closer now, face just a few inches from Jae’s, who feels dizzy from the alcohol but mostly from Brian’s scent.

“Didn’t like what?” he manages to ask, his heart thumping painfully against his ribcage.

“Me. Thought you didn’t think I’m hot anymore,” and although Jae wants to laugh it off, Brian’s words are steeped in insecurity, too much for him not to feel it in his bones too.

“Fuck it, Bri, you still the hottest, y’know it.” Honest. Drunk. He steps back and breaths in the clean — smoke and other people’s perfume — air, trying to break free from Brian’s overwhelming presence but not quite achieving it.

Brian’s quiet now, looking away and quieter than Jae’s ever seen him. Even more than that last time, because then he had the guitar but now, he’s just silent in a very noisy place. It’s not one of those comfortable silences people like to romanticize about, it’s suffocating. A girl comes out of the crown, eyes on Brian, manicured hands on his arm, but he shoos her away with a blank face that has Jae feeling both pleased and suspicious.

“Now that’s a surprise,” Jae can’t help but say, sardonic smile slipping out, sounding way more bitter than he expected. “King of one-night stands Brian Kang throwing out a good night of good ol’ sex to chit-chat with a, well, with anyone, really?”

Brian shuffles on his feet, annoyance clear on his face and Jae feels a little thrill running on his veins and making its way down, down, pulsing, just because he’s a little shit and really enjoyed that part of Brian when he fucked Jae hard against a wall when he was mad. Fucked. Past tense. The thrill turns bitter.

“Y’know, Jae, you’re not just anyone,” he’s too close again, breath hot against the curve of Jae’s ear, making him feel trapped, shivers running down his spine. “And, for the record, just because you see me this way it doesn’t mean I am what you see.”

Jae’s trying to play it cool, he really is, but his hands slide their way to the seam of Brian’s t-shirt by themselves and remain there, holding, longing. It’s hard to breathe, harder to think.

“So, you’re saying you’re not the guy who fucks everyone around and kicks everybody out just after?”, his question sounds breathier than he intended, voice cracking and fingers playing with the fabric between them.

“Did I kick you out?” Brian wonders, his lips so close to Jae’s neck he can already feel them there, hot and ever so soft. “All I remember ‘s you kicking me,” and then they’re apart again, and Jae’s almost offended, for a lot of things.  It wasn’t a fair play, and Jae’s inebriated to his bones — angry too, to be honest.

“Fuck, Brian, what was that for?”

Brian’s looking serious and too far away, unreachable in a way Jae can’t explain.

“No, Jae, I’m the one asking. What was that for?”

“What was what?”

“You still feel it, fuck,” and he’s back to being close. Brian’s playing with him, that’s the only explanation, his hands on Jae’s waist, their chests pressing together and Jae’s sure he’s about to scream, or worst, swoon. “We still fucking fit and you fucking know it! Why’d you think we didn’t work anymore?”

His mouth’s almost touching Jae’s, eyes half-lidded but still glued to his lips, and Jae tries to pull away a little, but Brian’s grip is solid, and Jae feels weak all over.

“I never said that Bri, we didn’t stop working,” his words are heavy and muted, because they used to work just fine, too fine, actually. “That thing of ours did.”

Suddenly Brian looks hurt and frustrated and angry, and Jae’s being dragged out the door to an empty balcony, where the music sounds lower and Jae's heartbeat louder.

“Shit, Jae, can you stop doing that?” he sounds confused, and Jae can tell by the way he’s holding his wrist, steady but not hard, that Brian’s trying to hold himself up, too. “I can’t stand it, not now.”

Jae laughs, honest, careless. He can’t stand Brian’s push and pull game, either.

“We’re even, then,” he says, “ask whatever you want, Brian, I’ll give you your answers.”

Brian sighs and looks away, anywhere but Jae, and Jae stands there, drink long forgotten on his hand, staring. Under the moonlight, Brian looks like he’s made from the finest silver, beautiful as always.

“Listen, Jae.” His voice is tired. Jae’s tired too. “What I always liked about you is that you always seemed to speak your mind. You do what you want and never hold back. You said we should stop, said it wasn’t the same anymore, and the only reason I never asked you why was ‘cause you only do what you want, and I couldn’t force you anyway. I was too afraid to ask back then, but I’d really like to know why, now.”

Jae doesn’t look at him.

“‘Cause we suck, Brian.” He likes word plays, not lies “We were doing the whole no strings attached thing, but we screwed everything ‘cause we don’t know how to be friends that fuck, we’re good at fucking people and getting rid of them, not at keeping them!” And before Brian says anything Jae’s already pressing against him, because he feels too raw and needing the support only Brian’s body could give him. “Don’t you see? You can’t make me breakfast, watch shitty movies under the blankets with me, kiss me goodbye and hello and expect me not to fall for you—”

“—I never asked that,” Brian spit too fast, still holding Jae for dear life, and it was like a punch to Jae’s guts.

“I know, it wasn’t fair of me to fall for you.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I never asked you not to fall for me, did I?” he’s whispering, while Jae had been loud and abrasive.

“I know that too, Brian, shit! I’m not that dense, okay?” And he means it. He knew there was something more, something in the way Brian held him, kissed him, knew everything about him, and in the way Brian looked so hurt when he left, that there was something more and that’s what hurt the most. Whatever he felt, it wasn’t enough for Brian to call him his, and he wasn’t willing to ask Brian to give up his freedom for him if he hadn’t willingly done it yet.

“But you’re so free. I could never ask for you to change,” he confesses, _couldn’t ask you to be mine, instead of your own._

“What the fuck is that what you call freedom?” Brian says, outraged, “sleeping around? Fucking around while I was waiting for you to either have me or let me go? I like you, Jae, I really do, and apparently, you knew it and even—”

“You never said it!” Jae’s cuts him off. The grip on his waist is tighter now and he reaches out to grab Brian’s arms. “And you never stopped fucking around, either.”

“None of us did! We didn’t say anything, we didn’t stop!” Brian’s voice rises, their arms still wrapped around one another.

“Are you mad at me?” Jae asks, apprehension and desire running fast through him.

“No,” Brian says, eyes overwhelmingly serious, making a guilty warm trickle down to Jae’s groin, who’s always had a thing for how focused Brian can be. “I’m pissed because you’re saying all that shit, but Mark was sleeping at yours that very last day before I got there.”

_Oh._

“I wasn’t fucking Mark, nor anybody else for that matter. Just you, for so long I thought I was going insane.”

“Why didn’t you say it, then?” Brian asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Why would I? You were the same. I thought you’d stop if you wanted, I didn’t want to — I couldn’t ask you anything.”

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t seeing anyone but you, and I thought you knew. Thought you kicked me out ‘cause you knew I was too into you and that’s what you wanted to say when you said it wasn’t the same anymore. Thought I’d screwed everything up.”

Jae stares at him, barely understanding what he’s saying, barely able to grasp how _wrong_ he was about them, about Brian, about everything.

Suddenly he has Brian’s lips on his, hands everywhere bringing a newly discovered kind of hot all over his skin. Suddenly all the regret, the unspoken words, the fears and the longing — oh god, so much longing — seem to implode and crumble inside his chest. Suddenly he’s licking into Brian’s mouth and asking — demanding, for them to get out of there.

*

“Just so know,” Brian says the next morning, still in bed, “that wasn’t freedom. Freedom is doing what you want, and I was just trapped, trying to distract myself from the fact I was hopelessly waiting for you to call me yours.”

Jae’s tired and aching all over, voice cracking when he says “listen, mister lyricist, ‘s too early for poetry”, but he manages to find Brian’s mouth even though he can’t be bothered open his eyes, soft kisses lingering. “Make me one of those pancakes and I’ll call you whatever the fuck you want, for as long as you want me to.”

“Why do I keep you?” Brian muses, mouth curving under his, and Jae laughs until he’s left the bed, laughs again when he goes to sit by the kitchen counter, to sip on fresh coffee and watch Brian cook them his pancakes, wearing one of Jae’s worn out hoodies. Brian’s laughing too, bright and high, and he seems so free, more so than Jae’s ever seen.

“Guess that’s freedom too, after all,” he whispers to himself, but from the look in his eyes, Brian’s heard it too.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bryan Adams' Heaven. **You can find us on twitter[@jaelixx](https://twitter.com/jaelixx) and [@moonymindpalace](https://twitter.com/moonymindpalace).**


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